


When an Eagle Meets a Swan

by Paarthursass



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Once Upon a Time (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Crossover, Science Fiction & Fantasy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-15
Updated: 2014-05-15
Packaged: 2018-01-24 22:10:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1618784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paarthursass/pseuds/Paarthursass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Storybrooke is known for its odd happenings.  But this stranger takes odd to a whole new level, and Emma - along with all the other citizens of Storybrooke - just might be in over their heads.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: I own neither Once Upon a Time nor Thor, or any other characters associated with Marvel and the MCU. This is purely for entertainment purposes. 
> 
> This takes place during Season 1 of OUAT.

Emma had been less than enthusiastic when Henry had insisted on taking her star gazing. She was sure he would spend most of the time talking about Operation Cobra, and it had been a long day, and she was exhausted. Plus, if Fate its usual self, something would happen and Regina would get on her ass for not being at the Sherriff's office where she was supposed to be. But a few puppy-dog looks from Henry and the reminder that any moment she could get with Henry without Regina's hovering was a blessing made Emma cave.

And that was how she found herself sitting on a cliff by the sea, looking up at the stars.

"This is for homework you said?" Emma asked, looking back over at the small, pale boy.

Henry nodded, looking up the stars with his usual considering squint. "Uh-huh! Mary Margaret wants us to try and pick out some constellations! But I can't figure out any of them besides the Big Dipper," Henry made a face at this, like he was almost disgusted at his inability to see pictures in the stars. Emma almost laughed out loud. He was able to see people as fairy tale characters, and yet he couldn't see pictures that were right there in the sky. She smiled fondly. He really was one of a kind.

"It's alright, I could never pick them out either. I just can't see a lion up there," she shook her head, chuckling. "Those Greeks had some imagination, huh?"

Henry nodded, chuckling a bit too. "Yeah, they did," he said, looking up and smiling a bit.

Emma smiled fondly at the boy again before looking up at the sky and exhaling, falling back onto the grass to lay there, closing her eyes. She was tired. So many people were still coming her with questions about Katherine, about Mary Margaret, about everything. She hardly had a moment to herself now. Especially with David always showing up like a little lost puppy, begging Emma to convey to Mary Margaret that he was sorry, that he wouldn't fail her ever again, that he promised to always be there, to always find her no matter what…

Emma shook her head. That guy was going to get a restraining order filed against him if he wasn't careful….

"Emma! Look!" Henry exclaimed, jolting Emma from the bit of sleep that had managed to invade her mind.

She sat up slowly, blinking, trying to push back the fatigue. "What is it?"

"The stars!" Henry said, pointing up at the sky.

Emma blinked and looked up at the sky, and at first, noticed nothing different. But then she narrowed her eyes. That was strange…..

The Big Dipper was gone.

"The stars are different!" Henry shouted, his eyes alight with curiosity and excitement. He turned to look at Emma, smiling brightly.

"You must have done it! The curse is broken and we're going back to the fairy tale world now!"

Emma frowned, " I wouldn't be so sure…" she said, as large, dark clouds suddenly began to gather in the sky, rotating in a circle as lightning began to crackle.

"A storm's coming, we need to get you home. Regina'll kill me if you get sopping wet from rain," Emma said, standing up, motioning for Henry to do so as well.

Henry pouted slightly. "Aw, Emma…"

His argument was cut short though, by a loud crack of thunder and a tunnel of clouds hitting the ground, only a few miles away from them. Emma stumbled, the ground shaking a little from the force. "Henry!" Emma shouted, reaching for him to steady him.

"I want to get a closer look!" Henry shouted, running straight for the cloud tunnel.

"Henry, no!" Emma shouted, her eyes wide. Was this kid crazy? Without second thought Emma ran after the boy, though he somehow managed to always stay a few steps ahead of her.

"Henry, get back here! It isn't safe!" Emma cried. But Henry kept running, straight into the cyclone.

And Emma ran straight into it after him.

Damn what happened to her, that was her  _son_.

Emma continued to run through the storm, wind whipping at her hair and trying to pull her with it. She had to squint her eyes to prevent dust from blinding her, though it wouldn't have made much of a difference. She couldn't see anything in here. But she didn't care, she kept running, her cries lost in the deafening sound of the wind.

Emma's sprint was cut short though, as she barreled through something, knocking it over. She didn't stop though, she immediately began running again.

Emma blinked as the storm died down, Henry standing a few feet away from her, looking disheveled and a little frightened, but okay.

"Henry!" Emma shouted, running towards the boy and dropping down to eye level with him, taking his face in her hands. "Are you okay?"

Henry gulped and nodded, his eyes wide. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks,"

Emma heaved a sigh of relief. "Don't you ever do something like that again! You nearly scared me to death!"

Henry nodded, and then looked over Emma's shoulder, his eyes widening. "Who's that?"

Emma turned around, looking at the man on the ground. So  _that_  was what she ran over. Crap. She cursed under her breath and ran over to the man, kneeling on the ground. "Hey, are you alright?" she asked urgently, sighing and turning him over. Wouldn't do him any good to have grass up his nose. Emma scrutinized the man and then exhaled. Great, he was unconscious. She blinked and frowned when she noticed an quickly developing bruise above his eyebrow. Double crap. Had  _she_  done that? Emma exhaled.

"This guy's injured, I'm going to have to drop him off to the hospital," Emma said, grunting as she grabbed the man's shoulders, trying to pick him up into a standing position. Henry blinked up at the man, frowning slightly. "Emma…..I don't know this guy,"

Emma grunted again, propping the man against her as she wrapped his arm around her shoulder, her other hand around his waist. "Neither do I,"

Henry looked up at Emma earnestly, his eyes bright. "Don't you realize what this means? He's new here!"

Emma blinked down at Henry. "So am I. And August,"

Henry waved his hand. "But you're supposed to be here! I don't know about that August guy. But  _he_  shouldn't be here!" Henry exclaimed, pointing at the unconscious man. "New people don't come to Storybrooke!"

Emma exhaled. "Henry…" she was cut off though, by the man jerking suddenly, his eyes opening.

"Woah there, easy big guy, you might have a concus – " Emma stopped, the man pulling himself away from Emma violently, stumbling around, looking at his new surroundings with narrowed eyes, growling slightly as he looked up at the sky, breathing heavily as he cried out.

"Father!" he screamed. "Father, don't leave me here!"

Henry stared wide-eyed at the man as Emma put a protective hand on Henry's shoulder. What was up with this guy….?

"Heimdall! Open the bifrost!" the man shouted, growling when nothing happened. His eyes fell on Emma and Henry, and he stalked up to them, Emma backing away slightly, pushing Henry behind her and putting a hand on her gun.

"What realm is this?" the man demanded, growling slightly. "Midgard? Jottenheim?"

"Storybrooke Maine," Emma replied, backing up some more. "Now, calm down, you're hurt, you're delirious, we need to get you to a hospital,"

The man scoffed. "I don't take orders from mortals,"

Emma deadpanned at him. Mortals? Really? This guy was another Jefferson….

Emma lunged forward suddenly, as Henry ran up to the man, but the boy was already tugging on the strange man's shirt in earnest. "Who are you?" he asked with wide eyes.

The man gave Emma a withering look before looking back at Henry, puffing out his chest proudly. "I am Thor son of Odin, god of thunder and heir to the throne of Asgard!"

Both Emma and Henry stared at the man wide-eyed. Though Henry with awe, and Emma with disbelief. He really was another Jefferson. Was this guy  _serious_? The god of  _thunder_? Really?

"Woah….that's awesome!" Henry exclaimed, his eyes bright.

This seemed to only inflate the man's ego more as he chuckled at Henry. "Indeed, it is. Now, have you seen my hammer around here anywhere?"

Emma rubbed her temples. Dear Lord….

Henry shook his head. "No, but I can help you look for it if you want!"

Emma frowned. This was going badly. "Henry, we need to get you back to Regina. She'll freak if you're not home before midnight, and I really am not in the mood to deal with her right now,"

Henry pouted. "But-"

"No buts Henry," Emma said firmly, gently guiding the boy back to her side, looking back up at Thor with a frown.

Thor frowned as well, but then apparently decided Emma wasn't worth his time, as he strode past her, still walking a bit like he'd taken a bad fall, but somehow confidently at the same time.

"I really think you need to see a doctor!" Emma shouted at the man, to which he responded by shouting something back at her. But the weird almost-British-accent mixed with the medieval sounding words made it almost incomprehensible to hear, but Emma was sure it was his version of "Piss off." The blonde sighed and shook her head. Just what this town needed: another crazy.


	2. Chapter 2

Mary Margaret sat at her usual table in Granny's, sipping a cup of coffee as she read through her book. It felt good to be out of that cell and in the open again. It felt even better to not have people call her tramp whenever they saw her. Yes, it was nice to have things back to normal.

"You need a refill Double M?" Ruby asked, balancing the tray on one hand, while the other rested on her popped hip.

Mary Margaret smiled. "No thanks Ruby, but I could use . . ." Mary Margaret drifted off as she stared out the window.

There was a man out there; blonde, tall, well-muscled, and  _foreign_. Mary Margaret had never seen him before. Which was . . . odd, because people never came to Storybrooke. Well, except Emma . . . . and August . . . .

"Something wrong Double M?" Ruby asked, following Mary Margaret's gaze and grinning appreciatively.

"Oooh, check out the yummy new guy," she practically purred.

Mary Margaret wasn't quite sure how to respond to that, but thankfully, a response wasn't needed.

Because the man walked in the door.

He had a powerful stride, and he held his head high. He also threw both doors open as he entered, which was a bit melo-dramatic in Mary Margaret's eyes. But then again, this whole guy radiated dramatics, what with that long hair of his, the leather pants and the _tunic_ he was wearing . . . .

Maybe he was a method actor or something.

"I require sustenance!" he boomed.

Ruby arched an eyebrow and smirked, but before she could saunter over to the man, Granny came out and walked over to the man, frowning over her spectacles. Ruby's smirk turned into a scowl, and Mary Margaret wasn't sure if the man had just been saved or thrown into the fire.

"Can I help you?" Granny asked, her voice firm and strong. Ouch, she was in a bad mood today.

"Granny better not scare him away," Ruby huffed.

"I am in need of nourishment," the man declared.

Granny nodded, her eyes closed as she exhaled. Mary Margaret winced. She knew that look. That was her "I'm too old for/It's too early for this" look.

"Right. You can go sit in that booth over there. Ruby will be there to take your order in a minute," Granny said, walking over to Ruby and hissing something in her ear. Judging by the annoyed look on Ruby's face, it was probably something akin to "no flirting."

Meanwhile, the man had sat down at his table, and was looking at the menu with an almost offended frown. Mary Margaret tried not to stare, tried to concentrate on her book . . . but it was _hard_.

Ruby sauntered up to the man, grinning, her hand on her hip. "See something you like handsome?"

Mary Margaret almost choked on her coffee.  _Ruby!_

"I would like a roasted hog and some mead," the man announced.

Ruby blinked in surprise, and Mary Margaret stared. Hm, he must have been preparing for some sort of Shakespearian role . . .

"We don't have roasted hogs . . . we've got sausages and steaks though!" Ruby offered.

The man sniffed. "That will suffice,"

Ruby nodded and took the menu, writing down the man's order on her notepad. "I'll get you some coffee as well," she said, looking up at the man. "And what order will that name be under?"

"Thor Odinson," the man said proudly, almost puffing out his chest.

Ruby arched an eyebrow. "Alright, Thor . . ." she said, turning and arching an eyebrow at Mary Margaret as she left for the kitchen. The schoolteacher merely shrugged in response.

Method actor. Definitely a method actor.

* * *

Ruby came back out a little while later with the food, and Mary Margaret didn't think there was a person in the diner who wasn't staring. Was he even chewing? Or was he just vacuuming it all up into his mouth?! Mary Margaret watched in a sort of disgusted fascination. She half expected him to unhinge his jaw and then start gnawing at the table. Granny watched in distaste, but she made no move to interfere.

Until he started smashing plates.

Granny stormed out of the kitchen as soon as the first plate hit the floor, and Mary Margaret almost hid under the table right there and then. At first, Thor seemed to be amused by the old woman's anger. But Granny held her ground and kept on berating Thor, and slowly, his face morphed into one of anger, and then he was shouting things back.

Mary Margaret had never wished she were safely in a bomb shelter more. And apparently, the same thought occurred to all the other costumers, as they quickly vacated the diner.

It wasn't too long after that Emma Swan's phone was ringing in her pocket. She pulled it out and glanced at the caller ID, and then answered the call, putting the phone to her ear. "Mary Margaret?"

"Oh, um, hi Emma," came the voice of Emma's flat mate. Though . . . her voice was rather quiet and scared sounding.

"Is something wrong?" Emma asked, suddenly on-guard.

"No, I'm fine. Um, I just think you should come over to Granny's real quickly,"

Emma blinked. Granny's? ". . . why?"

"Well, I just think you may need to break up a fight between Granny and this method actor,"

Emma blinked in surprise. Method actor? Since when did Storybrooke have any . . . wait a minute.

Emma groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Tall, muscular, blonde?" she asked.

There was a pause. "Uh, yeah. How'd you –"

"Long story," Emma said, exhaling. "Try to keep the almighty god of thunder from making Granny blow her top before I get there, alright?" she asked before hanging up and running a hand through her hair.

Today was going to be a  _long_  day.

Emma got into her yellow bug and drove over to Granny's, exhaling when she saw the crazy from the night before yelling at Granny. Emma sighed and got out of her car, checking the strap under her shirt to make sure the taser was still there. Couldn't be too careful . . .

Satisfied she had the means to restrain the loon if necessary, Emma walked into the diner.

" – you  _dare_  to threaten the son of Odin?" Thor demanded in his loud booming voice.

"I don't care if you're the son of Jesus; you don't get to come into  _my_  diner, destroy  _my_  property, and then refuse to pay compensation," Granny exclaimed, looking almost purple with anger.

Emma arched an eyebrow. "There a problem here?" she asked.

Granny turned around, her face still stormy, and Thor growled, his eyes barely flicking towards Emma.

"Sheriff Swan, this man came into my diner, broke my dishes, and has refused to pay damages," Granny said. Thor scoffed.

Emma exhaled and looked over at Thor. "Look, if you break it, you buy it. If you don't pay her back for the broken plates, I'm going to have to bring you into the station for property damage,"

Thor growled at her. "You are nothing but a puny mortal! You do not get to tell me what to do!"

Emma arched an eyebrow at him coldly. "Well, in addition to being a 'puny mortal,' I also happen to be the Sheriff here, which means I'm in charge of taking care of people who don't follow the rules. So either you give Granny the money you owe her, or I'm going to have to arrest you," Emma said, putting her hands on the table and leaning forward, looking Thor in the eye.

Thor frowned, and lightning blue eyes met stunning green in a clash. Neither one blinking, neither one looking away.

"I  _refuse_  to bend to the will of a Midgardian," Thor hissed, his eyes flashing dangerously.

Emma's expression didn't change. "Fine," she said, walking nonchalantly over to Thor and pulling out the handcuffs. She was about to snap them onto his wrist , but he growled and roughly pushed her away. "Do not touch me,"

Emma arched an eyebrow. "You gonna come to the station quietly then? Or just make things easier for everyone and  _pay the damn damages_ ,"

Thor growled. "I should not have to be subjected to this!" he roared as he stalked towards the door. Emma frowned.

"Oh no you don't," she said as she pulled out the taser. Thor scoffed.

"So puny a weapon?" he taunted.

"One last chance pal," Emma warned.

Thor rolled his eyes and kicked the table at her.

Emma's eyes widened, and she dove to the side to avoid the projectile. Emma looked up in time to see Mary Margaret – where'd she come from? – run up to Thor.

"Hey!" she shouted.

Thor turned and glared. "I have no time for – ah!" he cried out, covering his eyes as Mary Margaret sprayed a can of what looked to be pepper spray in his eyes. And as he stumbled around, trying to get the burning substance out of his eyes, Ruby came up behind him and hit him in the head with a frying pan. Thor started to fall forward, his eyes glazed over a bit, and then Granny punched him in the face, causing him to fall to the ground, already unconscious from Ruby's blow.

Emma stared at the three women wide eyed. Ho. Ly.  _Crap_.

Mary Margaret looked over at Emma and walked over to her, worry clear on her face. "Are you okay?" she asked.

Emma nodded a bit breathlessly. "Yeah, I'm fine," she said, staring at the fallen Thor.

"Thanks," she said after a moment.

Granny sniffed. "My pleasure," she said, wrapping her shawl around herself.

Emma looked over at Mary Margaret. "Where were you?"

Mary Margaret looked a bit sheepish. "I was uh . . . hiding under the table,"

"And I was in the kitchen," Ruby piped up.

Mary Margaret tilted her head at Thor. "Where'd he come from . . . ?"

Emma exhaled and crouched down, slinging his arm over her shoulders and standing up, awkwardly carrying him. "I don't know, but I'm taking him to the hospital before anywhere else. I need to make sure he doesn't have a concussion," she said, giving Ruby a pointed look. The brunette looked down, but Emma could see the satisfied smirk on her face.

Mary Margaret looked up at Emma. "Is there anything I can do?"

Emma looked over her shoulder as she walked to the door with Thor. "Yeah, keep Henry out of trouble,"

* * *

August parked his motorcycle by the magic well, taking his helmet off and exhaling. He shook his head to get rid of the helmet hair, and then looked around with a smile. He loved this spot. Something about it reminded him of home. He gulped back the lump in his throat. Thinking of home brought wonderful memories to mind, but it also led him to inevitably thinking of Father, and thinking of Father led him to thinking of how he'd failed him . . .

August – or rather, Pinocchio exhaled and shook his head, hanging his helmet on the handlebars of his bike and climbing off the vehicle, wincing slightly at the pain in his leg. It'd gotten worse last night. He had been sitting in his room looking over some plans for Operation Cobra – supplied by Henry, of course – when he all of a sudden lost the feeling in his leg up to his shin. Needless to say, Pinocchio was extremely alarmed by this development. The spread had been going at a relatively constant rate until last night. What had caused it to spike like that? Had a burst of magic suddenly appeared in Storybrooke and then vanished just as quickly? The thought was both troubling and relieving. That meant Emma was close to breaking the curse if fairytale land was starting to bleed through . . .

Sighing, Pinocchio leaned on the well, closing his eyes and listening to the echoes drifting up out of it. The peaceful atmosphere was disturbed, however, by an alien noise. Pinocchio frowned. Now that was strange . . .

It was a sort of metallic humming sound, and it most definitely had not been there before. But it wasn't coming from the well . . .

Opening his eyes, Pinocchio looked around, trying to find the source of the sound. It sounded like an electrical generator of some sort . . . but what would something like that be doing here?

His curiosity peaked, Pinocchio started limping towards the sound. It led him through a thicket of trees and straight towards . . .

Pinocchio stopped, staring wide eyed. What was  _that_?

A giant crater lay in front of Pinocchio, fallen trees encircling it. And in the direct center of the crater was a hammer.

It looked like a sort of war hammer, but it had to be incomplete, as the handle was too short. No one would be able to do much other than hold it. It would require inhuman strength to be able to actually _wield_  it. And yet . . .

Pinocchio's eyes widened in excitement. This couldn't be an ordinary hammer. It created this crater, for one, and he realized now that it had to be what caused the spike in the . . . infection's growth.

It was magic.

His eyes alight, Pinocchio walked up towards the hammer and reached out his hand, encircling the hilt of the hammer and grasping it . . .

. . . only to jerk his hand back immediately, hissing. The moment he'd touched the thing, the wood had spread up to his knee.

Yep, it was magic alright.

Pinocchio shook his head to get rid of the tingling feeling as he looked around. What was he going to do? He couldn't even touch the thing, so moving it was out of the question. But he couldn't leave it here, either. This thing was obviously powerful, and if it fell into the wrong hands – like the Queen or Rumplestiltskin's – everyone was doomed. No, they couldn't be allowed to find this.

Pinocchio frowned. Neither the Queen nor the imp came by here often . . . but he couldn't leave something like this up to chance. Both of the schemers had their spies, and at least one of them would find the hammer eventually.

Pinocchio exhaled. Maybe he'd get help from Emma or Henry, say he needed help moving it because he was allergic to the type of metal. He grinned. Or maybe turn the hammer into a sort of an Excalibur-esque object to pique Henry's interest. Of course, he could always tell the boy the truth . . .

The ex-marionette shook his head. He'd figure it out later. Right now, there wasn't much he could do other than hope the Queen and Rumplestiltskin didn't already know about the hammer.

As Pinocchio walked away, a keen pair of eyes glittered from the bushes. A Cheshire-like grin spread on the figure's face as he placed his hat back on his head.

* * *

It wasn't easy to get on the nerves of Agent Phil Coulson, but right now, he was about ready to break something – or someone.

The cause of Agent Coulson's annoyance was, in fact, a GPS. He was tracking the cause of a space anomaly that occurred thirteen hours prior for Nick Fury, head of S.H.I.E.L.D. His job was to find the cause – or any evidence of the anomaly – and report back to Director Fury so the site could be secured and the proper analysis performed.

And his GPS was not cooperating.

He had managed to track the energy signature of whatever was leftover from the lightning storm a few miles outside Boston when his GPS started malfunctioning. He drove in circles around Boston thanks to the damn thing, and after finally discarding it and relying on a compass and an energy tracker alone . . .

He had managed to get hopelessly lost.

He had ended up driving on some mountain path in the middle of a forest. The GPS currently said he was in the middle of a lake, the energy signature kept on changing, and the compass currently said north was in the direction of Texas.

Coulson pinched the bridge of his nose. This was not going well. He had orders to find evidence in less than 24 hours, but at this rate, that wasn't going to happen.

Clouson rubbed his head. This wasn't looking good.  _Something_  was interfering with all his tech, so he couldn't find this place, and S.H.I.E.L.D. was under pressure from multiple other organizations to find a cause of the storm, and if they didn't find one soon, funds were going to be cut.

Coulson froze as a thought occurred to him. The tech was failing, that was clear. So maybe they needed something else . . .

Coulson hesitated, and then pulled his phone out, both relieved and irritated that he still had a weak signal. Sighing, Coulson dialed it, and held the phone to his ear.

It didn't take long for the other end to pick up.

"Coulson, I trust you've found something?" Fury's voice came through.

Coulson paused. "Not exactly, Director Fury,"

A bit of silence. "What do you mean?"

Coulson explained the situation, Fury cursed.

"Sir, if I might make a suggestion . . ." Coulson trailed off.

A beat, and then a sigh from Fury. "What did you have in mind, Agent?" came the Director's tired voice.

Coulson paused. "I think we need to call in a consultant," he finally said.

Another pause from Fury. "Stark? You said yourself that tech was malfunction, Coulson,"

Coulson paused again, and licked his lips. "Not Stark, sir. A different consultant,"

Another pause, and Coulson could almost hear the click in Fury's head as he realized who the agent was suggesting. But he still asked.

"Which one?" Fury finally posed the question that both had been dreading.

Coulson licked his very dry lips once again. If he said this, there was no turning back.

" . . . the strange one."


	3. Chapter 3

The Mad Hatter had never looked madder, Jefferson thought ruefully.

He had been standing out in the sun for hours now, digging relentlessly around a Nordic Hammer. His face was sunburned, his skin sweaty, and his hair disheveled and grimy with sweat and dust – his hat had been discarded after it had deflated from the heat.

Not to mention the fact that he was in a five foot deep hole.

He had  _tried_  breaking the ground directly under the hammer, but the ground just wouldn't give! If it was even a millimeter away from the hammer, he could dig it up, but the ground was hard as rock under the hammer. It was like the weight of the thing had compacted the dirt so tightly it wouldn't budge. Or like there was some sort of electromagnetic force on the other side of the earth, keeping everything between it and the hammer in place.

Jefferson wiped the sweat off his brow. He couldn't think like that. He just had to dig deeper, and eventually he'd find a pocket or a rabbit hole or something that would make the ground give, and then he could pick up the hammer, and use its power to get back his Grace. That's all he wanted. Enough magic to make her forget her Storybrooke life, and make her remember her life with him. Then they could be happy again. Then they could be a family. And he had a huge mansion now: plenty of places for her to play. He could give her the things she'd always wanted, but never been able to have due to their poverty.

"Do I have to tell you what the penalty for property damage is,  _boy_?" a voice with a distinctive Scottish lilt to it inquired.

Jefferson jumped, and he turned around to face the speaker.  _Rumpelstiltskin_. Of course. He'd never met the man before, but he'd heard the Queen rant about him on more than one occaision. Besides, he was known throughout the land. Though in Storybrooke, Jefferson heard he was known more often as Mr. Gold.

"Does this patch of dirt belong to you, sir?" Jefferson inquired.

Rumpelstiltskin gave an amused smile. "Why, all of Storybrooke belongs to me. Even that patch of dirt right there,"

Jefferson arched an eyebrow. He wasn't the first to literally  _dig around_  in the forest, so why . . .

Oh, right, the hammer. The magic hammer. The one right behind him. Which meant . . . oh. Damn. Rumpelstiltskin remembered. He remembered he was Rumpelstiltskin. Right. Of course he did. He created the curse, didn't he?

Sometimes, Jefferson hated being mad. It left his mind all jumbled.

"Now, if you can tell me why you're digging in my forest – with an extremely odd hammer, I might add – I may be inclined to let you off easy and not tell get the Sheriff to arrest a second person today," Rumpelstiltskin said, adjusting himself so he could stand more comfortably while leaning on his cane.

Jefferson inwardly winced. Not Emma. No, he didn't think he was ready to see her again. Not yet. She was probably still sore about the drugged tea . . . and the making her sow a hat . . . and the kidnapping her best friend who was actually her mother even though neither of them knew it . . . she'd probably hit him on the head again just to get back at him . . . that woman packed quite a wallop . . .

Yeah, probably best to avoid Emma right now. Which meant lying. Convincingly. To Rumpelstiltskin. Who could probably smell lies as good as he could a desperate soul.

So Jefferson said the first thing that came to mind. "Art,"

Rumpelstiltskin arched an eyebrow. "Art," he repeated.

Jefferson nodded, his face completely serious. "Yes. I'm an artist, you see. A photographer. And I wanted to get a nice picture of this hammer I spent a while sculpting – I'm a sculpture artist too. I wanted it to be all dramatic with the sun behind it, and I wanted to get a view of it from below. But I couldn't get the right angle . . . so I decided to make one," Jefferson said, rambling just a bit.

Rumpelstiltskin kept his eyebrow arched. "I see. Where's your camera then?"

Damn. Right. Camera. He should have a camera if he was a photagropher. "I left it in the car. Didn't want it to get damaged by the sun and dust," Jefferson said quickly.

Rumpelstiltskin nodded his head. "I see. Well, I can certainly understand the need to express yourself. However, I don't think I am going to be able to repair the damage here . . . cheaply,"

He wanted money? That was it? Good, Jefferson could get money. Well . . . steal, more like it. He was sure Regina wouldn't miss a few gran . . .

"How much?" Jefferson asked.

Rumpelstiltskin slowly smiled. "Oh, I think that hammer should suffice. I have quite the eye for . . . oddities. And that hammer of yours is quite unique,"

Damn. Not so good.  _Rumpelstiltskin_  couldn't have the hammer. He couldn't!  _Jefferson_  needed it! He needed it to get Grace back!

But the Hatter knew better than to cross the Dark One. Even without magic, the imp still had power here, though of a different kind. So he relented, and nodded. "Alright . . ." he said, getting out of the hole and starting to walk away.

"Will you be back to take your picture?" Rumpelstiltskin called out after him. No doubt to humiliate Jefferson more. But at this point, he didn't care. He'd lost the hammer to Rumpelstiltskin. The one slim chance he had of getting his Grace back.

"Forget the picture," Jefferson said, looking every inch like an artist who had lost their baby of a piece.

But this time, he wasn't faking it.

* * *

The God of Thunder had a very large pride. And when that pride was wounded, he could skulk better than a child in a time-out.

This was  _infuriating_. It was  _embarrassing_! He had been beaten by a few women – not that women couldn't be excellent fighters, as Sif had proven, but these women had no combat training at all! They were _commoners_ ,  _mortals_ , and they had beaten him!

And now they had him caged like a dog.

Thor refused to sit on the rickety bed supplied in there – that would be submitting – and instead paced within his cell, occasionally turning to glare at the woman who was acting as his jailor.

Thor had already decided he disliked this 'Emma Swan.' There was a certain smugness, a certain impetuousness about her that just rattled Thor. He was the son of Odin, heir to the throne of Asgard and the God of Thunder! She should show him the proper respect! But instead she treated him like some lowly criminal.

Said woman looked up at Thor, as if she had heard his thoughts – Thor snorted at the thought – and arched one blond eyebrow coolly. "Got a problem, tiger?" she asked in that noncommittal voice of hers.

Thor growled in response. "I have many issues, mortal," he spat at her. "And you are only increasing them,"

Emma seemed amused by this. "Got ninety-nine problems, and a bitch  _is_  one, huh?" she asked.

Thor didn't know or care where she got the number ninety-nine from – what an odd number to come up with out of the blue, normally people thought in tens – but any response he had for her was interrupted by a small boy running in. Thor vaguely remembered him as being the boy who was present when he had crashed here on Midgard.

"Emma! Emma I heard about what happened at the diner! Are you okay?" the boy asked, worry clear in his voice. However, then his eyes fell on Thor, and the worry changed to surprise.

"Hey! You're that guy from the lightning storm!" the boy exclaimed.

"Henry, stay away from that guy, he's a nut-job," Emma said, frowning at Thor and pulling the boy away from Thor's cell. The Asgardian glowered at Emma in response.

"Forgive me, Miss Swan, but did I just hear you let Henry near that lightning storm last night?" a cool, feminine voice inquired. Thor could see the annoyance on Emma's face increase as a dark-haired, regal looking woman entered the room. Now, Thor wasn't an expert at reading people – Loki seemed more skilled at that observation than he – but Thor's princely training had honed his eyes to see that this woman carried herself like a queen. She commanded respect, and perhaps a bit of fear as well.

Both of which, Emma seemed unwilling to give.

"Henry had some stargazing homework to do, Madame Mayor. I went with him to make sure he stayed out of trouble. The lightning storm happened to be where we were stargazing," Emma replied dryly.

The woman narrowed her eyes. "I'm not quite sure I like your tone, Miss Swan. Henry could have been in a lot of danger,"

"It's not her fault!" the little boy perked up.

"Henry, stay out of this," the woman warned.

"No! It's my fault! I ran into the storm even though Emma told me to not to!" Henry cried.

The woman frowned. "I see. Well, I suppose some punishment is in order then, young man. No video games for a week,"

The little boy didn't seem too upset by this. Thor guessed that whatever a "video game" was, Henry didn't care too much for it.

"Will that be all, Madame Mayor? Or are you just planning to distract me some more?" Emma asked dryly.

"I'm just here to get a look at this stranger who disrupted my town," the woman said, turning her eyes to look at Thor.

The God of Thunder – who had been pacing all throughout the conversation – turned his head slightly to look at the woman through his hair, but said nothing and continued to pace. One look in those black eyes of hers had been enough for Thor. There was evil in her. Great evil. Though the sixth sense he had was more limited than Father or Loki's, he still could see the hatred she had let consume her. She had dabbled in evil, and that evil took root and thrived on the hate in her heart. She was a shell by now, no love left in her.

"What are you doing here?" the woman asked, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes.

Thor merely growled at her. "It is no business of yours, mortal." Evil or not, she was lesser than him. She was still only human, and he a god.

The woman arched an eyebrow. "Mortal?"

"He keeps on spewing all kinds of that crap. Talking about a place called Asgard, and how his father the great Odin will punish us all for our insolence," Emma rolled her eyes.

Thor growled at her. "You should show more respect to the Heir of Asgard!"

"Respect isn't one of Miss Swan's strong points," Regina commented dryly. There was something in her eyes though . . . suspicion, perhaps? Thor didn't know.

"Well, you don't seem to be doing much harm in there, and as long as Miss Swan continues to do her job, I don't think you should be much of a threat," Regina finally said, turning away from Thor and looking down at Henry. "Come on Henry. Time to go home,"

The small boy looked like he wanted to do the opposite of just that, but the look in his eyes showed that he knew he had no choice. So he ran over to Emma and hugged her tightly. "Be careful, okay?" he asked before running over to the bars of Thor's cage, despite the cries of alarm from Emma and Regina.

"I believe you," Henry whispered before running back over to Regina, though he didn't stay by her. Instead, he waved at Emma, calling good-bye to her fondly before running out the door. Regina looked at Emma, and Thor could see the resentment, anger, and even jealousy in her eyes. Emma stared right back, her gaze unwavering, her blue eyes just as cool and hard.

"Good day, Miss Swan," Regina said before turning crisply on heel and exiting the room.

The moment Regina left, Thor gave a small snort. "You two act like Queens fighting over land," he said. The thought was so absurd – Emma, impetuous disrespectful Emma a Queen! The realm would be doomed if that were so – that he gave a hearty laugh. So loud was Thor's laughter, he almost missed the clicking sound of Regina's heels stop for a moment, as if in pause, and then start up again.

* * *

Rumpelstiltskin didn't stick around the site of the hammer for long. The magic it emmitted was strong enough to attract anyone - even someone who'd never known magic. But Rumpelstiltskin knew magic all too well, and it had been easy enough to find it. Of course, moving it would be another problem: Rumpelstiltskin could tell he wouldn't be able to lift it - such objects were only for the pure of heart or worthy, neither of which Rumpelstiltskin fancied himself. The thing was like Excalibur, the sword King Arthur wielded - almost exactly like it. Only, whoever picked up the hammer wouldn't be king of the realm . . .

_Whosoever holds this hammer_

_If he be worthy_

_Shall possess the power of Thor_

The text on the side of the hammer was Ancient Nordic, but Rumpelstiltskin could still read it well enough. No, this hammer wouldn't make the bearer king, but even more so. Closer to a god. And that kind of power was dangerous.

Rumpelstiltskin had returned to his shop, though. There was nothing he could do about that hammer for now. He couldn't move it, and he couldn't set up any magic to surround the hammer to protect it. The thought that he was almost powerless about what to do was a little unsettling.

But the thought that Regina wouldn't be able to do anything about the hammer -  _if_  she found out about it - was a tad consoling.

Not only Regina, but Rumpelstiltskin doubted anyone in Storybrooke could wield that hammer. Maybe James . . . but that was back in the old land. David Nolan was weak, hardly worthy to be a god.

There was the puzzle of Emma Swan though . . . the woman destined to break the curse . . . perhaps she could lift the hammer . . . her or that son of hers, Henry . . . .

Rumpelstiltskin smiled. It was an interesting thought, and it would make a fascinating - or possibly disappointing should neither of them be "worthy" - experiment. For another time though, perhaps.

Because Rumpelstiltskin didn't believe in coincidence, and the stranger arriving the same time as the hammer and the lightning storm seemed a bit too . . .  _coincidental_.

So he thought it was about time he visited this "crazy method actor" everyone was talking about.


End file.
